


You Give Perfection a New Meaning

by thelegendarymistermiguel



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Artist!Steve, M/M, PWP, Shower Sex, Steve draws Tony, SteveTony, Superhusbands, bottom!Steve, dirty talking, theres really zero plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-11
Updated: 2013-11-11
Packaged: 2018-01-01 04:02:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1040107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelegendarymistermiguel/pseuds/thelegendarymistermiguel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve's always wanted to draw Tony, but feared Tony's reaction. Much to his delight, Tony's reaction is just the thing Steve wanted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Give Perfection a New Meaning

**Author's Note:**

> im v sure this is the longest fic i've written in a while (and my fics average like 1k words in length SO THAT'S SAYIN SUMFIN 4 ME)
> 
> that title tho

Since he first laid eyes on Tony, Steve had been aching to draw every little detail of him. And Tony had told him that he could, whenever he wanted. 

Other than his own reserve, and his doubt in his abilities, there was next to nothing that prevented Steve from drawing a detailed portrait of Tony. Honestly, he probably could have done it entirely from memory, but he'd much rather have drawn Tony with Tony himself present.

So, Steve asked Tony if there was any day in the near future he could clear his schedule completely, and when Tony asked him why Steve explained, and Tony said he would be able to have the very next day off.

"Are you sure?" Steve asked, absently biting his lower lip.

Tony nodded, waving his hand passively. "I'm more than happy to clear my schedule for you, Cap. Besides, there isn't anything that I have to desperately get done tomorrow. I'll be happy to free up my day to have you draw a portrait of me. I know that it's important to you."

Steve's brows furrowed. "I... How do you know it's important to me?"

"You've mentioned it to me," Tony said, shrugging his shoulders. "You've told me before about how you're fascinated with the artistic perspective of the human body."

And yes, that was part of the reason. But the other part of much more... dirty. Perverted. If Tony knew the real reason, he wouldn't agree. 

Steve nodded, and smiled. "Right, right, yeah. Um, I have everything I need at my apartment."

Truthfully, all he needed was a blank piece of paper, a pencil, and an eraser, depending on how Tony wanted Steve to draw him. 

"...What do you mean, 'everything'?" Tony asked. "I thought it was fairly... straightforward. Do you need more than a paper and a pencil?"

Steve shook his head. "No, no, I don't, but... I mean, I'm... I'm comfortable at my apartment. Doing this."

"Ah," Tony sighed with a smirk. "I'll be there first thing tomorrow evening."

Tony turned around to resume his work (Steve had felt a little awkward barging into his workshop like he did), but Steve caught his shoulder. 

"Why in the evening?" 

Tony shrugged again, saying flatly, "It seems more appropriate."

"How so?"

"Well," Tony began, setting down his... whatever it was, Steve couldn't really tell, "you'll be drawing me in the nude, correct?"

Steve nodded. He hadn't planned on bringing that up until Tony got to his apartment, which was, admittedly, a little sketchy of Steve. 

"You don't want anyone to barge in, do you?" 

Steve shook his head, and Tony smiled. "Good. It's settled then. I'll be there around eight."

And the next day, Steve woke up early, making sure everything was set up correctly. He'd planned to draw Tony in a couple of positions, but he ultimately decided on having Tony lay down on Steve's couch in the most comfortable way he could, because drawing Tony at a relaxed, content state made more sense than having him twist and turn in all the different ways Steve wanted to draw him.

Maybe, if Tony was okay with it, they could explore that in the future, but Steve put that thought aside. 

By the time Steve had set up and situated everything, it was barely noon, which meant Steve had eight hours to himself. 

The problem was, much like Tony, Steve had cleared his schedule (which was already close to empty, which is why he chose that day in particular), so he found himself with eight hours to kill. 

He went on a walk around noon, bringing along with him the iPod Natasha had given to him and showed him how to operate. He left his Brooklyn apartment at noon, crossed the bridge, toured Central Park and Times Square in the heat of the day, before making his way back to his apartment. Much to his dismay, he'd forgotten to charge his iPod, which died while he was halfway across the bridge. Steve wasn't very much complaining, however. Accompanying his fascination for the human body, was his dual fascination with the way humans interacted, the way they operated, and the way dealt with things. Steve passed a coffee shop, where a man was throwing a toddler-esque hissy fit because his latte wasn't as hot as he wanted it, which, Steve thought, was a very easily solved problem. He snicked to himself, and continued his walk. 

He crossed the bridge back into Brooklyn as the sun began to lean toward the late afternoon glow, the shadows that had been nearly non-existent in the early part of his walk were then elongated, stretching across the road as he walked down the Brooklyn streets. He turned onto the street where his apartment was in Carol Gardens, catching relief from the unrelenting sun as he walked under the trees on the sidewalk. 

When he entered his apartment, it was just as he left it. He glanced over at the clock, and found that he'd only spent four hours on his walk. 

He thought he could maybe just go to the gym until six, eat dinner at around seven, and then watch television or read or whatever for the remainder of the time. 

Without his iPod, Steve decided to go to the gym, which was a bad idea, because he could barely focus on his workout without musical aid. The radio station that played above him blasted synthetic-sounding music, with fast beats (not identical to those of his own time, however) and raunchy lyrics. He'd heard about how it was, "such an old person thing," as Clint had put it, "to hate music nowadays."

Chronologically, Steve  _was_ nearly a century old, so he was definitely classified as an "old person".

He only spent an hour on lifting weights, and another hour on cardio, barely breaking a sweat. The clock told him it was nearing six o'clock, so he left the gym and returned to his apartment, kicking off his shoes and changing out of his gym clothes into sweatpants and a white t-shirt. He fell back onto his bed, sighing and shutting his eyes. He reached over, set his alarm for seven-thirty, and decided to sleep. 

And when he woke up to the blaring sound of his alarm clock, he grabbed his pencil case, set up his stool in front of the stand and spun around on the stool. 

The clock on his microwave read 7:45, so Steve simply had to be patient and wait fifteen minutes. 

For a majority of the time, he tapped the eraser of his pencil against his leg and sat in silence, the only sounds coming from the honking horns outside and the distant sirens. 

Finally, there was a knock on his door, and Steve suddenly became aware of how dark his living room was. Before he answered the door he turned on the lights, just a lamp in the corner of the room, which cast a low, orange-ish glow on his apartment. 

The door opened before Steve got to it, and Tony stepped inside, waving his greeting to Steve. He was on his cell phone, talking into it with a passive, "Yeah... uh-uh... I'll get to it tomorrow... okay... g'night."

"Sorry," he sighed, tucking his hands into his coat. "Work."

"Do you need to be doing something?" Steve asked, a hint of disappointment settling in his stomach. 

Tony shook his head and said, "No, no. I can do it tomorrow. I'm busy, anyway."

There was a slight moment of silence, and then Tony asked, "So, where am I... posing? How am I posing?"

Steve turned and led Tony into the living room, motioning to the couch. "I... uh, I just need you to find a position where you're most comfortable."

Tony raised an eyebrow at him. "Shouldn't  _you_ be the one deciding where I should be?"

"I... I know that it can be... kind of awkward, to do this, to be in your position, and, by the way, I'm very thankful that you agreed to let me draw you, but I just think you should be comfortable. So, just find any position that's comfortable," Steve could  _hear_ the shakiness of his voice, and he hoped Tony didn't pick up on his anxious manner. 

Tony looked back at the couch, before shrugging the coat off of his shoulders. 

"Where should I put my clothes?" 

"Um, here," Steve grabbed Tony's coat and rested it on the back of one of his dining room chairs. 

Tony began to unbutton his shirt, and Steve then realized that he was going to see Tony naked, which he'd been wanting for as long as he could remember, since he'd  _first met Tony_ , and it was finally happening. Not under the terms he'd imagined, but he was willing to take anything. 

Tony slid out of his shirt, handing it to Steve. 

Steve, however, had watched him take it off, and gotten distracted by how much more toned Tony was than Steve previously thought. His chest was broad, his stomach looked tight and his arms were bigger than they appeared under his shirt. Steve's main focus was on the arc reactor, with its dull glow and humming white light. There was scarring that networked outward from where the device was situated in Tony's chest. They were fading, but still pink enough for Steve to see them from around five feet away. Tony caught his staring, and said, "Everyone has the same reaction to it. When they first see it."

Steve's head snapped up, blinking and shaking his head. "Sorry, sorry, it's just..."

"Just what?"

Steve gulped. "It's beautiful."

Tony smiled slowly, tapping a finger against it. "It's doing what it's supposed to. That's all I care about."

"And what, exactly, is it supposed to do?" Steve asked, raising his eyebrows. 

Tony licked his lips. "I thought you knew this story."

"All I know is that you got captured, and there was some metal or something stuck in your chest, and you basically had to build something to save your own life," Steve said, shrugging, hoping Tony would explain more. 

"There's shrapnel in my chest, heading straight for my heart," Tony said casually, almost as if it was an every day thing. "It's an electromagnet. It basically keeps the shrapnel from going straight into my heart and killing me."

"You say that as if it's not a big deal."

"It's a part of my daily life," Tony smiled innocently. "So, basically, it's not a big deal."

Steve nodded, pursing his lips. Tony went on, fumbling with his belt, slipping it out of the loops of his pants. He passed his belt to Steve, then unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, pushing them down his thighs and kicking them off (Steve didn't recall when Tony had taken off his shoes and socks). Tony's legs looked smooth and toned, up to his thighs, and then Tony was hooking his thumbs under his boxers and pulling them down his thighs, where they joined the rest of his clothes. He stepped out of them, and handed them to Steve, who was keeping his eyes strictly on the wall behind Tony. Steve turned and put them with the rest of Tony's clothes, turning around to find Tony's back to him, which was just as toned and muscular as the rest of him.

Steve dared to glanced just slightly downward, his eyes trailing down the curve of Tony's back, and even lower...

Steve shut his eyes, trying not to get too distracted, but he figured that his reserve was going to be out the window soon enough. 

"So, just, find a comfortable position, right?" Tony asked him, back still turned to him. Steve made a sound of affirmation, and then Tony was sliding onto the couch, leaning sideways, his head propped up on the arm of the couch. 

Steve's back was turned to him, and then he turned around, pencil and eraser in his hand and he had to admit, Tony was just about the most amazing thing he'd ever laid his eyes on. 

"Do you want me all... Rose-like?"

"Wh-what?" Steve asked. 

"Like, from  _Titanic_? When Jack was drawing Rose? Her arm was like this," Tony explained, lifting his arm and resting it over his head. 

Any position would have been perfect, but Steve just said, "Whatever you want."

Tony hesitated, and then rest his right hand over his midsection, just below the arc reactor, and his left hand was idly on his left thigh, and he fidgeted a little, until he nodded. "I like this. I'm comfortable right here."

Steve nodded, and then, he got to work. 

He started by drawling the outline of the couch, figuring it was best to get that out of the way first. Tony watching him, staring right at him, not lifting his gaze at all. Steve looked up, and then he was finally drawing the outline of Tony's body. He looked from the paper to Tony's face and back to the paper, and then at Tony's legs, his right one draped slightly over the edge of the couch, the other slightly bent at the knee, digging into the back cushions on the couch.

He began at Tony's head, first shading in his hair, which was not even slightly disheveled, reminiscent of the first time he'd met Tony on that S.H.I.E.L.D heli-carrier. 

Steve spent only seconds on Tony's hair, before he moved onto Tony's face. He made sure not to miss a single detail, not even the worry lines on his forehead, or the few freckles that dotted his cheeks here and there, or the lines around the corners of his mouth. 

Tony watched Steve intently, parting his lips slightly, and Steve felt a little dizzy at Tony's split-second decision. Tony shifted slightly, before settling back in. 

Once Steve had finished the shading of Tony's face, he moved down his shoulders, to his arms and then his hands. He sketched lines of Tony's chest and stomach and legs, finishing his arms and hands and shoulders before moving to his chest. He glanced over his shoulder, and it had been almost an hour since he began. He went back to his drawing, penciling in Tony's chest and leaving a circle in the middle for the arc reactor, which he squinted to see, in order to get the details of it perfectly. 

"How far along are you?" Tony said, making Steve jump a little. 

"I... just have to finish your torso and your legs."

Tony didn't say much else, returning to his state of silence, and watching Steve. 

The entire time, Steve had to stop every few seconds to look back at Tony, simply for selfish reasons, because Tony was a beautiful man, and even with the arc reactor, drawing him would've been easy, but Steve had to do him justice. He had to get everything right, because he wanted to capture just how breathtaking Tony really looked. Tony gave perfection a new meaning, to Steve. 

By the time he was finished with erasing the extra lines and smudges from Tony's stomach, his blood flow had gone from his head south, and he felt himself straining against his restricting briefs. He kept thinking dirty things, things that he shouldn't have been thinking, because he'd never get to do them, but he wanted so badly to strip his clothes off, crawl on top of Tony, and rut against him. 

Steve avoided drawing Tony's dick, just because he was afraid of losing the control that was already beginning to flee, and drew in the details of Tony's legs, the lines where his muscles strained, and Tony was flawless right down to his thighs and legs. 

Steve spent little time on Tony's feet, simply because he felt it unnecessary, and then he set down the third pencil he'd used (the other two having snapped or gone dull and Steve hadn't wanted to get up, for obvious reasons).

"You got it?"

Steve, impulsively, shook his head. "Taking a break."

He felt disgusting, pretending like he had more of Tony's body to draw, but he didn't want Tony to leave, to put on his clothes just yet. Steve wanted to look at him for just a bit longer, before he'd say he was done. 

The only thing he'd left out drawing was Tony's penis, and he felt that if he did that, he might not be able to concentrate. 

But he did, anyway, penciling in his groin, his dick rested on top of his balls, which Steve couldn't, but wanted to, see. 

Steve finished drawing that, too, and then looked up, accepting there was not much left to draw. He could feel himself leaking pre-cum, he could feel wetness on his thigh, and there was basically no hope of his erection going down before he would have to get up. 

"You finished?" 

Steve nodded.

"Can I see?" 

Steve hesitated, and then nodded, and shrugged, "I guess. If you want to."

"Eh, I might just sleep here," Tony smiled, lifting both his hands above his head. "I'm so comfortable."

Tony was killing Steve, who wanted so badly to relieve himself, relieve the pressure in his groin, so he said, "But you're still naked. And it's late."

"No need to rush, Cap," Tony said, looking over at him. "We could hang out for a little bit, couldn't we?"

"You're still naked," Steve repeated. 

"You act like you've never seen a naked man before," Tony sighed. 

"Not one like you."

Tony looked over at him, and Steve chewed on his lower lip, hoping to God and every other higher power that Tony hadn't interpreted that like Steve had meant.

"Is that why you wanted to draw me?" Tony asked, raising his eyebrows. "What, do you think I'm handsome? Good-looking? It's fine, Steve, you can think another man is good-looking without being sexually attracted to him."

"But I'm not," Steve sighed, accepting that Tony would find out sooner or later, and the sooner, the better. 

"You're not... what?"

"I meant. I don't think you're just good-looking," Steve sighed, tumbling the eraser in between his fingers. "I think you're... breathtaking, to put it a certain way."

Tony was quiet, before he licked his lips, and said firmly, "C'mere."

"Tony-"

"Come here," Tony sounded like he was ordering him, and Steve stood, not fearing to hide the bulge in his sweatpants. 

Steve walked cautiously over to Tony, and Tony's dick was beginning to swell and become more and more red, and he stopped when the knees hit the edge of the couch. 

"Take off your clothes," Tony said softly, stroking his hand up and down his thigh. Steve watched him for a second, before lifting his shirt over his head. He didn't stop to think about what he was doing, because he feared he might decide against it, and then he tugged his sweatpants and boxers down and stepped out of him. 

Then, Tony wrapped his hand around the shaft of Steve's dick and tugged on it, making pre-cum spit into his palm. 

"You're big, just like everyone thinks."

"What do you mean?"

"Clint and Bruce and Natasha all placed bets that you have a big dick, and they were right. I assumed, as well, and I'm glad I was right."

Steve didn't have time to think that over, because Tony was tugging on his dick and pulling his arm closer, urging him onto the couch. 

"I think I might weight too much," Steve said nervously. 

"I don't mind."

"But-"

Tony kissed the back of his hand, running his thumb over the head of his cock with his other hand, and Steve moaned, chills running down his spine before he swung his leg over Tony's thighs, pinning him against the couch. 

Tony's hand was in his hair, pulling him down, brushing their lips together, and then Steve, before he could even really think about it, was kissing down Tony's chest and stomach, lapping the droplets of pre-cum off of Tony's stomach that he wasn't sure were his own or Tony's. 

Steve shifted downward, his lips brushing over the head of Tony's cock.

"You've done this before, right?" Tony asked him, and Steve nodded. He wasn't lying entirely, because he  _had_ done it before, but he didn't think he was very good at it, but he still took the head of Tony's cock in his mouth, sucking on his, feeling it jump and pulse against his tongue as he lowered his head, Tony's cock filling his mouth.

Tony breathed heavily above him, making a small thrust into Steve's mouth. Steve's gag reflex kicked in, and then he was brought back to why he was so bad at it the first time he'd done it. 

Steve pulled over, couch and spitting, saliva spilling down Tony's thighs and over his balls, which hung lower, between his thighs, that Steve hadn't seen before. 

"Sorry, I..." Steve didn't really know how to apologize, but Tony was pulling him back up and saying, "It's fine, Steve. I didn't even ask you. But if you want, I can teach you how to... deepthroat, basically."

Steve nodded, and he felt a brief flash of excitement at the implication that there would be more of what they were doing in the future. 

"What do you want to do?" Tony asked, and Steve fumbled around in his mind for an answer, and then he just said, truthfully, "I want to shower. But I don't want to get up. I-I want to cum, but..."

Tony kissed his neck, and pushed up on his chest. "A shower sounds nice."

So Steve led him into his bathroom. Tony stepped into the tub (because Steve didn't have a cubicle shower, like the rest of the world), Steve behind him. Steve pulled the curtain closed, while Tony turned on the faucet, waited for the water to warm up, and then pulled on the knob to make the shower head splash water onto the both of them. 

"Come, stand in front of me," Tony said over the water. Steve moved past him and stood facing the wall, the hot water beating onto his face and hair and wet his hair, the steam rising around him. 

Tony's hands were stroking down his back, sliding with ease, accompanied with Steve's body wash, running his hands over Steve's ass, squeezing and kneading his cheeks apart. 

Steve felt the warmth of Tony behind him leave, and then his cheeks spread further and his spread his legs wider. Tony's tongue flicked against his hole, making Steve gasp and groan, pushing back. Tony's other hand reached up, ridding his hand of the bubbles, and then he wrapped his fingers around the length of Steve's cock and stroked, from the base to the tip and back down again. Tony slipped a finger inside of Steve with his other hand, along with his tongue.

Steve's legs shook, struggling to keep him upright, as he felt his skin prickling with sweat, possibly because of the steam, but mostly because of what Tony was doing to him, and he realized Tony might've been wanting him just as Steve had been wanting him, all along. 

Tony withdrew his tongue and pushed two fingers into Steve. There was no lube, so it hurt more than usual, but then Tony pressed his fingers against Steve;s prostate and squeezed his head of his cock with his other hand and Steve was cumming, shoving his fist against his mouth and biting into the back of his hand, groaning lowly. 

"I'm not quite finished with you," Tony said, standing up, but not withdrawing his fingers. 

He angled Steve slightly downward, finally withdrawing his fingers from Steve's hole. Steve pressed his hands against the wall in front of them, reaching up to tilt the shower head away from spraying directly into his eyes. 

Tony turned him around, and angled his back to press against the wall of the shower. Tony pressed against him, rubbing their dicks together first, before holding Steve's hips firmly in his hands. Steve's arms wrapped around Tony's neck, and then they were moving together, thrusting against each other, the wetness of the shower and their pre-cum making the sliding so easy, fluid, and Steve loved it, he was already hard, watching Tony's face as he rutted against Steve.

Tony's hand slid between them and gripped their cocks, stroking them together, Steve's hips bucking into Tony's grip. 

"Tony, Tony, please," Steve moaned, tilting his head back. Tony's lips were on his neck, sucking a bruise, then kissing the bruise. 

Tony reached lower and cupped Steve's ass with his other hand, pushing Steve closer to him. 

Steve twisted his fingers into Tony's hair, bucking his hips up, his cock sliding against Tony's, and then Tony shifted and Steve was rutting against his hip, Tony using one hand to get himself off. 

Steve came against Tony's hip, his head smacking back against the shower wall as he groaned.

Tony's fingers slipped back into his hole, and Steve wasn't sure why, and then Tony sucked in a harsh breath and came silently, his jaw tightening and his eyes closing. Watching him cum was just as beautiful and flawless as Steve imagined, and Steve had an overwhelming urge to kiss Tony, but he didn't, he held himself back, almost unwillingly. 

They pulled apart, and cleaned themselves up, before stepping out of the shower. There was only one towel, which made them both feel odd, using the same towel. 

Back in the living room, Tony pulled on his clothing while Steve tightened the towel around his waist. 

"It's amazing, by the way," Tony said, motioning to the drawing. 

Steve had pretty much forgotten about that, at the time. 

"Oh. Thanks," Steve smiled. "So, you're leaving, then?"

Tony nodded, then frowned. "Do you want me to stay?"

"Well-I-" Steve stammered, but he didn't know exactly what he was going to say. 

"I can stay, if you want me to."

Steve looked up at him, and then Tony was walking over to him and kissing him, honestly and slowly, not feverishly, not hotly, just. Slowly. 

"I'll stay." 

Steve shut off the living room lights and pulled Tony toward his bedroom.

**Author's Note:**

> every talks about how much they want steve drawing naked tony and not that many people have done art or fics (that im aware of anyway) so i did it yall <3


End file.
